Destiny
by emoPoet666
Summary: This is something I'm writing because I truly believe that Murtagh will ever be truly evil. There is some slash so beware . . .
1. Chapter 1

DESTINY 

Disclaimer: all characters and places belong to Mr. Paolini. Me I just exploit them.

Murtagh's arrival at Uru'baen was several days before the army would arrive. Normally he would have stayed with them anything to stay away from Galbatorix, but he wanted to be alone. There at the gates of the castle stood the king's servant, Saladin. Thorn had gone away to the dragon caves as he always did, he was not allowed to enter the palace grounds with his Rider.

He roughly brushed passed Saladin, they had once been friends before 'Adin had betrayed his and Tornac's escape to the king. Nowadays he trusted no one except Thorn, Malik, and possibly his younger brother. He wasn't sure if he should add Nasuada to that elite list but he knew she was the leader of the Varden, and technically she was his enemy.

When he entered - unhindered by anything but his gloomy thoughts - he tried to head toward his room. But Galbatorix could manipulate the main halls so that they would bring someone to see him. Murtagh knew this, yet still he resisted. The throne room's doors would appear in front of him; if the corridor continued he'd walk past them, if it didn't he would turn around. He had no idea how long he'd wandered those convoluted halls along with those in his mind. Then the doors appeared and he could not continue nor could he turn. He grinned to himself, Galbatorix was annoyed, if Murtagh was going to be the king's slave he would be an unwilling one.

Then since there was no where else to go, he flung the large door open. Momentarily he was blinded, in the darkness of the room. Slowly his eyes adjusted and he saw the red glow of an unholy fire lite behind the black, dragon-shaped throne, where the king, himself, sat.

Galbatorix rose slowly - not wearily, but as if he wanted to intimidate his slave. "Murtagh, why do you still rebel against me?" The king's voice was mesmerizing, it made you want to yeild to his will and his alone.

"What do you mean, Elbrith?" Murtagh said insolently. "All I did was walk in the halls."

Galbatorix's glace was poisonous as he shot it toward his adolescent Rider. "HOW DARE . . . !" The king began to rage, but then stopped and lowered his voice from rage-filled to seductive. "You did not bring you brother to me." he said quietly, "why did you not?"

"He was too strong for me." Murtagh lied blandly.

Galbatorix's laugh was evil and cruel. Then Murtagh felt as if a hand was closing around his throat. His brain began to panic from lack of oxygen. His feet slowly lifted off the ground. His hands clenched into fists as he strained to break the magic. Blackness began to encourch on the edges of his vision. He felt his brain to shut down and his limbs going limp. Then as he was about to pass out of consiousness, Galbatorix released him.

Murtagh landed in a crumpled heap on the floor. Murtagh felt as if he still couldn't breath. He could only exhale, not inhale. Then air poured - painfully - into his lungs. He lay there his breathing ragged.

"Now will you tell me what you know?" the king asked in a quiet voice.

Murtagh's lips couldn't yet answer but his mind screamed 'NO!'

Galbatorix must have heard his mental rebellion, because the invisiable hand closed again and slowly tightened, and this time did not stop until its victim was unconsious. But just before his mind shut down, Murtagh thought he heard someone scream 'stop it!' He could have sworn it was the voice of Alrae, the king's eldest daughter.


	2. Chapter 2

DESTINY: Chapter Two

Disclaimer: All places and people belong to Mr. Paolini. Me, I just exploit them.

When Murtagh woke up he wasn't sure how much time had passed. The only thing he knew was that he was not still laying on the throne room's floor. He groaned. His head was throbbing, his mouth tasted of metal, and he felt as if his muscles were made of water.

"Shhhh . . . " he heard someone whisper.

Murtagh immediatly tried to raise himself up onto his elbows but fell back onto pillows. "Alrae?" he asked.

"Yes, I'm here," she whispered as she lay a cool, damp cloth across his forehead.

Murtagh then closed his eyes. He was safe: for the time being. 'So,' he thought, 'it was her that I heard.' This didn't really make sense to him. Alrae usually avoided her father like he was the plague. Galbatorix had never paid attention to his children once is was shown that they couldn't be Riders. Sometimes when he was young, he used to think that it would have been more pleseant to be Galbatorix's son than Morzan's. But he did cut that idea loose. Morzan wasn't the best father, he could be just as cruel as the king, but sometimes - though it was rare - he would spend time with Murtagh, having fun. Those rare moments were worth the pain of the other times.

He could hear Alrae pacing. She wanted to hear news of what he'd done while he was away. He sighed, "So what do you want to know?"

Alrae came and sat on the edge of the bed and looked down at him. He pale gold hair framing her thin pallid pace, her large gray eyes seemed too large for her face, they gave her and innocent air. That air was enhanced by the fact that she was always thinking and distracted. "Why did you not bring Eragon?" she asked.

If her father had been asking the question he would have closed his mind and his lips but he trusted Alrae. When they were smaller Murtagh had harbored a secret love for her that he never revealed and now it had been replaced by the love of a brother for a sister. "I found a loophole in Galbatorix's command. I managed to let him go but I did take Zar'roc from him."

"I saw that," Alrae said in her soft voice, "I'm glad you let him go." Then she rose, touched his cheek, and said, "Now rest."

Alrae quicklly walked through the labrinth of halls, until she came to the doors to her father's library. Galbatorix did not like to read but he maintained the pretext that he did so he could escape into the library and no one would bother him. Alrae knew this was the only place she could speak to him. She raised her hand and gently knocked on the door. The door was opened by Omiliki, a deaf, and blind slave from Surda. The king was slouching in a chair his brow furrowed. When Alrae entered his raised his head and bluntly asked, "What did you learn?"

Alrae took another chair before she began to speak. "What he told me with his mouth was that he found a loophole in his oaths. But his mind when he's unconscious is as open as that of a newborn child. While him and the other Rider were fighting Murtagh realized that he still loved his little brother, and this renewed his hate against you. And also , buried deep in his mind, he obviously made an attempt to hide it while he was conscious, was the fact that he became friends with the daughter of the former Varden's leader. Her name is Nasuada and she is now the leader of the Varden," She said all this quietly and slowly. While her stomach twisted with guilt. Murtagh trusted her, had once loved her and a woman instead of a sister. She felt like a traitor, which was what she was.


	3. Chapter 3

DESTINY: Chapter Three

Disclaimer: All places and characters belong to Mr. Paolini. Me, I just manipulate them.

Murtagh awoke again, this time he did not feel as if Thorn had just eaten him. Nevertheless, his head still throbbed a bit. He was in his own rooms, which he was sure he had not been in when he spoke with Alrae. The rooms Galbatorix had given him were probably supposed to make him more conplacent and compliant. Which - though he hated to admit it - the ploy had worked for a short while. 'Now,' Murtagh told himself. 'I have to doubly gaurd my mind.'

Then he rose and dressed. On the table of the adjoining room bread and fruits were laid out. Murtagh was very hungry, being strangled by someone could do that to someone, however, he did not eat. He slipped from the room and through the halls until he was in the orchard that Galbatorix had within the walls. Here the fruit was always ripe because the king made it that way. Here the young Rider satted his hunger by eating the king's fruit.

Then he rested beneath the young apple tree, not caring if anyone found him there. His eyes closed as he lay in the warm sun. He must have dosed off because when he opened his eyes again Milak was standing there grinning down at him. Murtagh jumped to his feet and embraced his friend. When they released each other, Milak held his friends at arms length and peered into his eyes. "Are you all right?" he asked, concern in his voice.

"Why wouldn't I be?" Murtagh laughed with a grin.

"Alrae told me about . . . what Galbatorix did," Milak said solemnly.

At this Murtagh's smile vanished. "Of course she did," he said somberly.

"I wasn't sure if I was to believe her fully. Because Alrae somtimes says such things to gratify herself in the eyes of the Master Healer, Joncsyn," Milak said slowly.

A silence followed neither were sure of what to say.

"Well," said Murtagh, "Where's Addrian, and El'linnor?" Ad'drian was Alrae's twin brother, but Murtagh had never seen him enough to know if he should be added to the list of those he trusted. Ad'drian was an excellent sword fighter, he also had been a student of Tornac. El'linnor was The king's second daughter, she was only fourteen but she hated her father and the way he treated Murtagh. Alrae and Ad'drian were always busy with their respective paths, Alrae with healing, Ad'drian with fighting, and neither paid much attention to their younger sister who was left in the care of their mother who also did not care for her. So until Murtagh had been brought to the castle young El'linnor was on her own. Murtagh was the first person who really paid attention to her so she attatched herself to him which also attatched herself to Milak and Alrae. He and the little girl became almost like siblings, she was smart for her age and very defient, but she also was quiet when her companion wished for silence.

Milak avoided meeting Murtagh's eyes. "Where?" Murtagh pressed.

"El'linnor has been sent away, I don't know where but Galbatorix sent her away after she told him she hated him. Ad'drian, I think you've seen him more recently than me. He was with the army you lead." Malik said quietly, with tears in his voice. He loved El'linnor just as Murtagh did. But the Rider had always suspected that it went deeper than that. Malik was only nineteen monthes older than little El'lie.

Murtagh's eyes widened, when he heard about El'linnor's being sent away. That was definetly NOT good. Galbatorix was famous for his temper. He might have really sent her away or he might have had her killed and just said that she'd gone away. He looked down at his hands and squeezed his eyes shut and tried to cool his burning anger. But tears still leaked between his eyelids as he tried to hold them back. 


	4. Chapter 4

DESTINY: Chapter Four

Disclaimer: All places and characters belong to Mr. Christopher Paolini. Me, I just manipulate them.

El'linnor paced the halls of the small castle just outside of Melian in southern Alagaesia. One of the thirteen forsworn had taken up residence here but now that all of them were dead the king used them to keep those he was displeased with; so they were out of sight but also under his absolute control. El'lie couldn't quite remember which forsworn had lived here but - for some reason - she thought it was Morzan. This idea comforted her a little bit, to think that Murtagh - her brother in all but blood - had grown up here.

Today it was raining which meant that she wasn't allowed outside. Therefore, she was restless. And it wasn't like in Uru'baen where you could see the bustling city from the tower windows. Here the castle was far enough from the city that you couldn't see it. Around here there were only a few farmsteads. And Melian wasn't as large or prosperous as it once was because of it close proximity to Surda. The few maids there were were close to her own age but they were farmers' daughters who were seeking to raise themselves socially, so she did not have much in common with them. But Killani, the Master of the Servants would sometimes speak to her. He was an educated man who had once worked in the castle of Uru'baen, but when she questioned him of why he was sent here he would deign to answer.

She sighed heavily and plopped herself in a window seat which was directly outside of her quarters and she'd dragged some cushions and a blanket there to make it more comfortable. She curled up and rested her forehead agains the gool windowpane. As she sat there she admitted to herself that there was one small advantage of being sent away. There were no classes or routines, she could eat when she wanted, read when she wanted, practice bow & arrow when she wished to, and - a big plus in her mind - she did not have to wear dresses, she could wear her sparring clothes all the time.

She sighed, she hated rain. There was nothing to do but to wallow in its dim dreariness. Her mind began to wander to when she'd seen a bedraggled army passed on it's way north and a red dragon flew above them. This had been almost three weeks after she was sent here. Now she wondered why she'd blown up at her father. If she hadn't she would now be in Murtagh's sometimes moody company. She had yelled at him the day after the army departed. She was cross because her forsworn-brother (as she referred to Murtagh) was going off to war with orders to capture his brother Eragon and his blue dragon, Saphira was her name. El'linnor thought it was a lovely name and wished she had been given and equally beautiful name. Her name simply meant 'second daughter', but Alrae and Ad'drian's meanings weren't much greater, 'sister' and 'brother' were their meanings, not anything great, like Eragon. She knew - from and old storyteller who had been invited into the castle - of the first rider and his dragon. The king's daughter would have loved to learn more from him, but the Galbatorix did not care for him, and she was only six, a bit too young in her mind to defy her father - but never her king. She couldn't remember his name and she doubted that he'd given it, but she did recall that he said he came from a place called Palancar Valley, far in the north, close to the Spine.

She sat there for many hours watching the already bad light grow worse. At her home the dinner bell would have already sounded and they would be eating in the hall, whose very air felt of malice. She gazed out over the planes, where there was nothing, until she say two small figures and another shape, who was of great size. At first she dismissed it for two small unfortunate children who'd been sent out in search of a wayward cow. Then she noticed, however, that they were so far away that if the two humans had been children she wouldn't have been able to see them. 'If they're full grown then what is . . . ' El'linnor began to ask herself before she thought 'DRAGON'. She'd only seen Thorn once and Shruikan a few times but they were impressed on her mind.

She lept up and grabbed her cloak and boots from her room, and the slipped out into the garden, forgetting that she was forbidden to go out in the rain, but even if she had remembered she would not have cared. Then she slipped through an archer's slit, that was used in times of seige to shot at the enemy while being protcted by the wall, but this one was wider than is should have been, and she began to call it 'Gropper's Corner' in her mind because it was a tight squeeze even her being as thin as she was. El'linnor almost got stuck, something she had NOT anticipatted because when she was out she was always accompanied by Marii, who she knew was charged to watche her. Then she was free. And she began to run toward the figures. It was either Eragon and Saphira or Murtagh and Thorn, it didn't matter who to her. She was fit and wearing her training trousers made it easier to run. But her short short that she always wore at her belt here enbumbered her and banged against her legs.

El'linnor didn't know how long she'd run because while running there was nothing but breathing, and her feet pounding against the damp ground. She slowed as she drew close. She could now see, be the slight flickering of their meager fire that the dragon was blue and that neither of the boys were her forsworn-brother. She knew her dark cloak blended her into the dark grayness of the falling night so she drew a few steps closer. The one who sat the furthest from the dragon had light brown hair, or so she guessed in the poor light. He was broader and looked battle worn, by his side rested a large hammer, which from the way he looked she deduced that he knew how to use it, also was growing a rough beard. The boy sitting next to the blue dragon, Saphira, looked a bit like the other, but he had a younger more carefree air to him. Their hair was almost the same color but that was basically where the great resembles stopped. His movements were lithe and sure, and El'linnor was reminded of what the storyteller had told her of the elves. His face was thin and so was he, his face seemed fairer than that of anyother man, it had an almost feline look to it. But his eyes, his eyes, she recognized, they were the same as Murtagh's. 'That must be Eragon,' she thought to herself.

She was so busy watching Eragon's face to see that he'd motioned something to the man and that the one with the hammer had risen with his hammer and was no longer in the very small circle of firelight. Then she heard a slight sound behinder her which made El'linnor's gaze shift to check on the other man, then she saw that he was no longer there and she started. She slowly began to rise from her crouch when she was grabbed from behind and she screamed. 


End file.
